Ablazed in the Past
by kellythesane
Summary: A girl from district 7 leaves her beloved home in order to forget her past and discover herself at the famous Stenton Academy. May contain swear words and such.
1. Chapter 1 & 2

**Hey, this is a story I am currently still writing. Please read and give me some critisim !  
**

**The story is told by Olivia Collinswood, a 19 year old intellectual and anti-social girl who leaves her home, District 7, to go study at the famous Stenton Academy in District 2. She encounters Gale Hawthorne, an emotionless boy, Laurdin Paylor, the President's daughter. Together, they push her to confront her fears, and save Panem from ultimate mayhem.  
**

**Some things to consider:  
**

** - is it interesting so far? **

**- should I add more information about her background, or do you want it to unfold slowly?**

**- are there any messed up sentences that I should correct?**

**Note: **

**the chapters titles are in french because I'm a weirdo.**

**Hope you enjoy it !  
**

chapitre un

I wake up, startled, by the terrifying nightmares that continually haunt me when I engulf into sleep. _Thump-thump, thump-thump, _my heart sounds. "Hurry up and get dressed. You'll miss the train," instructs my mother presently. I immediately respond to that, my eyes search for the clock. 11:00 am. The train leaves in a few hours; but I'm guessing my mother wants me to be extra ready. I stand up, take a deep breath, and stride to the bathroom.

I change into my white t shirt, olive green military jacket, and blue denim jeans. Looking into the mirror, I see my blank expression. _How am I feeling?_ Well, this question frightens me, because I don't know. My long, straight black hair whishes to my shoulders, with my bangs inching to cover my dark brown eyes. In sunlight, my hair glistens with a chestnut hue, matching my eyes. My peachy rose skin prickles, because of the scorching shower I took, so now I'm red without the embarrassment. I discontinue analyzing myself, and head to the kitchen.

Before I even reach there, I inhale a whiff of my mother's famous blueberry waffles, which are the best waffles I have ever tasted in my life. Tantalizing? Very. Normally, she makes these about twice a month, but today is a special occasion; I'm going to the one and only Stenton Academy – in District 2. Hence, I will be leaving my parents, and District 7; with its lush forest atmosphere. I will be living on the grounds of the school for 4 years, free of charge, because I acquired a scholarship with my hard to achieve grades. At last, I think I know how I am feeling about this expedition; anticipated.

"Olivia, I can't believe you're moving out already! I'll write to you every month, and I'll send you some money so you won't have to struggle to find work, and-"

"Mother, I'll be just fine. Surely I can find a job somewhere; maybe not exactly what I want, but it'll sustain me enough," I assure her.

"Nonsense! I'll send you some, anyways," she insists stubbornly. Realizing that a) I'm fighting a losing battle, and b) my waffles are getting cold, instead of bickering with my mother, I quietly finish my breakfast. As I'm chewing, I see the resemblance from her and me. We both have the same black hair, and rose skin tone, but her eyes are a glassy, clear cyan blue, whereas I have my brown, plain eyes.

I come out of my two story, wooden house, and just stare. At everything I know; the enormous wheat field, the chipping warm yellow paint barn house, the endless, jagged row of pine trees at the back of the house, the fruit/vegetable patches, and of course, my working father, who is hauling two metal milk pails toward me.

"Morning, father," I greet.

He smiles in return, and says "Good morning, Liv. You excited for the big district?"

"Ha, course I am. Wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Don't get too ahead of yourself; carry these to your mother, please." His brown eyes are twinkling with tease. The same brown as mine. His hair was a caramel brown, before it turned grey, of course. Although my father is somewhat old, he still towers over me, which is where I inherited my height from.

"Yes, sir!" I salute, and grab the pails with my bare hands. My parents are great, even if they really hate me going away for such a long time. Sometimes I wonder if they know I can stand on my two feet.

I gave the pails to my mother, and go back outside. It takes me 15 minutes to walk through the dusted path that leads to the stream, my favourite place out of District 7. When I was 15, I discovered this place as a refuge from the world around me. The willow tree sits at the edge of the meadow, with its little drops of golden green leaves swaying with the wind, its trunk inching to fall into the water. But, it never does – somehow, it stays planted into the ground. This place always seems so surreal to me, because nowhere can look this peaceful in real life. I've found a place of utter tranquility. My head rests on the rigid surface of the tree, taking in the beauty of this area. It was one of the few places that escaped the Capitol's obliteration.

Scanning my room for the last time, my parents suddenly bombard in. They say what all parents would say; be safe, don't forget anything, and good luck. It's funny how this speech can be used to bid someone goodbye when they go to war. I hug my parents, and bid them farewell, with me simultaneously lugging my bags. I step out the door, into a new phase of my life.

chapitre deux

While waiting at the outdoor train terminal for my voyage, I look around. It is a clear, beautiful summer day, with flowers bursting with colour, birds soaring with glee, and the blue sky above me. It is also the last one, actually, and I try to find some familiar faces. I recognize some people from the town, but not anyone from my school. It figures, I guess. Everyone would be cherishing their last day of summer before school comes around and no one mentioned moving. Then again, I didn't either. I've kept to myself all this time, not because I am shy, but because I know that if I got social, my grades will plummet, thus leading to locking in a terrible future ahead of me. I was very involved in my school work; I did not need distractions called companions. Yes, I was alone, but I was never unhappy about it. I like being solitary

A distant chugging sound interrupts my thoughts, and instantly, I get up from the bench. The train strops in front of me, with its rusty, iron body, which looks like it just had its centennial birthday, or more. I go inside and take a seat next to a window. The whole train has this antique vibe to it, and although I've rode this a dozen times, I haven't taken notice until now. My eyes are drooping, trying to stay open, but I drift into sleep anyways.

I awake with sunlight beaming through my eyes. They do a take at my silver watch; a going away gift from my parents. It reads 6:38 am which means I've slept for at least 5 hours. Soon, the train will stop and I'll be officially in District 2, to departure to Stenton. Excitement builds up, and I am instantaneously rejuvenated. To pass the time, I spelunker the different train compartments; some are just for passengers, and a few were restroom or food compartments. Wait, I slept through dinner! Just as my brain comes to that conclusion, my stomach reacts with a pretty loud gurgling sound. Fine, but first I go to the restroom, I tell my stomach telepathically.

After I freshened up, I stride to the food compartment, and pay for a turkey sandwich. I sit on an empty chaise, thinking of how much of an impact this experience is going to make on my relatively safe, predictable life. Maybe I'll get amnesia and hopefully forget my damned past. Or better yet, render me to stop beating myself up. Ha, the first outcome seems more plausible.

As I nibble on my sandwich, my eyes lay upon the man to my right. I am 100% certain he was not on the train before I was, because I would have noticed his conspicuous grey eyes. Maybe he is the same age as me, but the way I perceive him, he seems so matured, that I can hardly tell. He has straight, black hair, a tall stature, and olive skin, and seems to be staring out the window. I avert my gaze to mine to my left, to prevent myself from staring. It's just that this person is intriguing; he doesn't have the cocky popular boy posture, because I would have detected that immediately. This man almost seems pained, maybe? There is only so much about him I can interpret, but I can sense he had gone through too much, which gives him a permanent yet subtle kind of impenetrable sadness in his eyes. Anyways, the train stops movement, and the conductor notifies everyone that we are in District 2.

"FREEDOMMMMMMM!" my brain screams with joy. Instinctively, I collect my belongings as fast as I can, and rush out of the indoor train station of District 2, in search of a cab. Luckily, I find one just in the nick of time, race to it, beating the other person competing with me. _Oh, that wasn't nice,_ I thought, _but then again, I'm not._ The cab driver offers to put away my luggage, which I thankfully accept, so I hop inside the vehicle. "Stenton Academy, please," I instruct, as the engine roars to life, and soon enough, we leave the station.


	2. Chapter 3 & 4

chapitre trois

We arrive at a red bricked, giant building, framed by long white marble columns. White birch trees, various types of pretty flowers displayed on beds, and trimmed bushes decorate the whole area. This place is some kind of education paradise. Lounging students scatter across the freshly mowed lawn, conversing to one another. The vehicle stops, and I hastily get out of the cab. I pay the driver the given fare, and cautiously walk towards and into the school.

While I am not so easily sauntering through the halls, I also take time to gawk at the academy's prized trophies, plaques and awards. _How prestigious, _I note. The school had mailed some general information, including where I shall be heading when I get here. Apparently, I'm supposed to meet up at the auditorium for the orientation, so I take out my map, and pinpoint where I am. I've never been too good at navigation, but I manage to stumble to my destination. I have to squeeze through ongoing floods of students and avoid random things in my way, like a physics textbook carelessly thrown on the floor. Finally, I walk inside, observing the surroundings. The wooden, glossed stage is centered at the front, with velvet red curtains framed on the sides, the slightly dimmed lights on the top of the room, the mass of students buzzing about, ready to start the school year, and the theatre chairs, lined up in rows and rows across the auditorium. I take a seat at the middle row, waiting for the presentation to start.

"Good morning students; I am the headmaster of this school. My name is Mr. Baldwin. This year, we have many fine scholars here that came from all over Panem, to study at this academy. We are honoured to have you intelligent individuals to partake in our various programs. Today, I will inform you on your responsibilities as a student, and as a student body." He pauses for a few seconds, and then continues. You know, I would like to say that I was listening to the whole speech, but my attention likes to shift from one thing to another, such as the people whispering in front of me. "Like, seriously, I don't think you gained weight over the summer! She's probably just jealous, like everyone else," says the obviously superficial girl across from me. Now, I'm just wondering how the hell she even got accepted here. _Such enigmas,_ I think. So, now I am listening half-heartedly to Mr. Baldwin, because he is actually more interesting than that girl. I learn nothing new; each person's timetable is different due to their selected courses (duh), lunch period is 12:10 pm, dorm room keys are distributed when people sign in at the office, and blah, blah, blah. I had said I was a pretty good student, not a pretty good listener. At last, Mr. Baldwin wraps up his speech, and everyone can go explore campus, since it technically isn't a school day. Freshmans (like me) can join tour groups, if we want, but I'd rather not.

I sign in at the main office, obtain my key, and go straight to the dorms. Room 228 is written on it, so I stop at that door. _Click, _sounds the lock, as I twist the knob. The first thing I see are the light green walls, and the eggshell white trim. A girl, probably a freshman also, is smoking a cigarette near the large white window. Her hair is a shade of chestnut, tied up in a ponytail. Dressed in a plain black mid-sleeve shirt, and light blue faded jeans, I can tell she is slim and shorter than me. The bright, emerald stone eyes of hers lay upon me, and then she sets down the cigarette on the window sill.

"Hey, my name's Laurdin, are you my new roommate?" she grins.

I return the smile, "Yeah, my name's Olivia Collinswood."

"Nice name. Are you a freshman?"

Do I seem that predictable? "Um, yes. How'd you guess?"

Laurdin chuckles, "Simple. You appear to be in high spirits, probably because you made it here at Stenton. Others would hate to come back, due to the hardship of actually having to study again," she plops herself on the coffee hued couch, putting her feet at the glass table. I throw myself on the couch, and my luggage (yeah that's right, I was still dragging it around) on the carpet.

"So, I'm guessing you're a freshman also," I claim.

She turns and glances at me, "How'd you guess?"

"You don't seem like you hate it here," I joke.

She snickers, "Well, it's a hell lot better than home."

"Ha, amen," I laugh.

I get up and ask "I'm going to spelunker out this place. Want to come along?"

"Nah," she shakes her head, "I'm going to relax for a while."

"Okay, just don't reek up our room. I don't want cancer."

Laurdin rolls her black rimmed eyes, "Don't worry, I won't."

So, I wander around this campus. I greet professors with politeness, and listen to them about the classes they teach. Unlike Mr. Baldwin, they are actually quite interesting, which keeps me engaged into their words. I spend the day being enlightened, even if class didn't start until tomorrow.

chapitre quatre

It's a good thing I was smart enough to bring an alarm clock with me to District 2, because I would have slept through all morning. I shoot up from my bed when it rung, the ear pounding _DING- DING- DING _mentally striking my skull. With my hands, I lift the damn clock and click the off button. My feet guide me to my suitcase; I grab my clothes (a navy stripped long sleeve shirt, and sandy coloured cargos), and head to the shower.

As I grab my book bag, with stationary included, Laurdin finally wakes up, and is making her bed. "So you're an early bird, huh?" I say sarcastically.

"Yeah, of course I am. I'm a model student!" she agrees, with the same tone as me.

"Well, how are you going to get ready fast enough before cl-"

She cuts me off, "I actually don't have classes this early. I actually am early."

I smirk. "Wow, lucky you. Well, see you later."

"Bye – have fun," she calls out.

I skip breakfast, just because I'm antsy to start the day. Entering the first class of the year; world history, I spot the perfect seat; a solitary desk in the first row. I stroll to the empty seat, and sit, discreetly observing other students. _They're not very fascinating, _I think, because either their just yapping with their friends or doing nothing, like I am. The professor arrives, and starts the lesson. Everything around me melts away, leaving me immersed into the sea of information.

I continued this cycle throughout the day; watching others until class started, paying close attention to the teacher, then hurriedly going to my next course. I did not fall asleep in class, I took notes vigilantly during the professor's lectures, and to be honest, it was like high school all over again. Except now, I obtained a friend who I regularly talk to, whereas back in District 7, I didn't have anyone. _Maybe having a companion isn't so bad. _

I make my way to pharmaceutical chemistry, the last course of the day, when my knees abruptly buckle. My eyes see a pitch-black void of nothing, as my whole body collapses on the grey, tiled floor.


	3. Chapter 5 & 6

chapitre cinq

When I regain consciousness, a dull yet terrible pain hits my head. Feeling woozy is what I would call it. I open my heavy eyes, though it takes me a long time, and try to sit up.

"You're in no condition to get up yet," a boy orders.

Well, I do it anyways, but then the world spins, and my head pounds hard, so I stay put. I double take to check if I am a) still in the halls, and b) being watched by anyone (besides that boy of course). To answer these questions – I'm in a grey room with medical supplies stored in shelves, cabinets, and drawers, and my body is lying on a thin, white mattress. The boy who instructed me is by my right, staring intently at me. Oh god, it's the person from the train, and his face is still frozen with seriousness, like the last time I saw him.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask, with an edge to my voice.

His eyebrows rise up, like a twitch, probably because I talked to him that way.

"Gale Hawthorne. You should be more respectful. I was the one who carried you to the nurse's office."

I don't even have to think of a reply.

"Well, thanks, although I didn't need your services," I retort.

Gale's face cracks for a nanosecond. "You would've been trampled in the hallway if I didn't come along. Luckily the bell rang just before you fainted."

"I think I would've taken care of myself just fine, now excuse me, I must go to pharmaceutical chem.," I then have the ability to sit up without a head rush, as I walk towards my books on the table next to the mattress. But, instead of escaping, the warden (the nurse) comes into the room.

"Sorry hun, but we need to see what the problem is. You're not going to be able to go to class," she explains. Gale quietly slips out of the door, while the warden-nurse prepares the equipment needed to test me. I sigh, and surrenderingly sit back on the mattress.

I check my watch; 5:06 it reads. I've spent all of last period and 2 hours after school stuck at the nurse's office, basically doing nothing, and now I get to go back to my dorm. It was a total waste of time – the nurse found out I blacked out because I haven't been eating much (no shit Sherlock), and thought I was starving myself on purpose. Come on, really? Eating just slipped out of my mind, because I was trying to settle in here at Stenton, so I was obviously preoccupied.

I enter my dorm, toss my book bag on the mini-kitchen counter, and fling myself on the couch. At times when I am overly stressed, confused or just tired, I file through my memories. I let my thoughts take over my overused, exhausted brain; just letting them come and go. I remember the happy times, when my parents and I had picnics in the warm, summer evenings, when I first learned how to ride a bike, and how that accomplishment made me so overjoyed. But then, awful, and despicable flashbacks occur; the rebellion that defeated President Snow, the once leader of Panem. The rebellion almost razed the whole nation, including District 7. I remember those bombs, explosions that caused massive forest fires, dropped from the sky by those hovercrafts. The aftermath of those events still gives me nightmares.

Laurdin bursts into the room, "Hey Liv."

I turn to look at her, "Hello, I blacked-out today."

Her eyes widen with shock, "What? Why?"

I roll my eyes. "I just forgot to eat. You didn't think it would be that grave of a situation, did you?"

She glares at me, "Dude, don't scare me like that. I was seriously freaked out."

"Sorry," I apologise sincerely, "it was just a joke."

Relief floods her face, "It's alright. But I think I'm going to start monitoring your diet."

I can't tell if she's kidding or not, but it's nice having her caring about me. Thinking of this moment, she and I are becoming really good friends. Wait, I don't even know her last name. But she knows mine, and also; I don't know where she came from and many other things. She doesn't know a lot about me either.

"You do realize we barely know anything about each other," I point out.

"Oh yeah, ha, didn't notice 'till now. So where'd you come from?" she questions.

I shake my head. "I'm not answering that until you tell me your last name."

She sighs deeply, "Ugh, please don't ask that."

"Why?"

Laurdin gazes at me sullenly, "Because," she hesitates, "my last name is Paylor."

chapitre six

"WHAT?" I almost scream.

"Yeah. President Paylor is my mom," Laurdin confesses, looking deflated.

"So… Ok then… That's unexpected."

"Do you want me to prove it or something?" she questions me, probably used to this kind of reaction.

"No, no." Call me naïve, but Laurdin doesn't present herself as a person who brags, so I doubt she'd be lying about this silly subject. "Although, I am curious. How did you keep your identity a secret?"

She laughs, "Only the professors and the headmaster know about this, because my mom specifically told them to shut their lips. So they created a fake last name for me. You can't reject the president's orders."

Well, this has been a messed up day; I fainted, got carried by Gale Hawthorne, and discover that Laurdin is the president's daughter.

"Ok, well I've had enough of that topic. Let's talk about how our first day went," Laurdin concludes.

"Good, because I can't take anymore drama," I claim tiredly.

"Wait, what other drama?" she inquires suspiciously.

Hence, I tell her my very exciting day, including the part when I met Gale.

"Oh, Gale. He helped my mother in District 8 during the rebellion. And apparently, he is sought after by most of the female population here, or at least the freshmans. I have to admit, he's quite gorgeous, though I don't love him.

Wow, what a heartbreaker. Although, he did aid with the war, which I have to give him credit for.

"Well, one thing's for sure," I confirm, "I'm certainly not going to fall for him."

We continue talking about our classes, until I bring up my dream about being a chemist.

"My mom always invites me to come to her fancy dinners with some intelligent people, like scientists. She wants me to become somebody that earns a lot of money, even if we are showered in riches already. This Saturday, she wants me to come over because these scientists are planning to work on a cure for high-jacking. You know - the thing that District 12 victor had?" I nod, wanting her to go on.

"If you want, we could go," she suggests.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I yell unbelievably. That would be amazing. Just being in the presence of real scientists will blow me away. I would learn much, and it would definitely impact greatly on my future.

"No, I'm serious and I'm guessing you really want to go."

"Yeah, of course I do. But would your mother allow it?"

She scoffs, "She desperately wishes me to participate in these kinds of things; I doubt she'll deny me from coming if you are coming also. I'll give her a call."

I smile at her, "Thanks. For everything."


	4. Chapter 7 & 8

HELLO – truly sorry about the hiatus. There was a project I had to do, with minimal aid from my fellow mates. Anyways, enough about my sucky excuse, ON WITH THE STORY. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW, THANKS!

chapitre sept

The rest of the week was ordinary, and it wasn't until Friday evening that something remotely interesting happens. I am sitting cross-legged, on the soft green grass at the park on campus, reading a book on philosophy. It is around 8 o'clock, so I have my flashlight with me. All of a sudden, the sprinklers turn on and shower me relentlessly. "Damn," I curse under my breath. I sprint to the nearest bench, and place my book under it. Then I stand. A grin spreads on my face, and I find my arms swinging over my head. I leap and leap, circling the revolving sprinklers, feeling a release of endorphins and utter bliss. Drops of water splatter on my face and body, leaving me a feeling of exhilaration. After a while, the sprinklers shut off. I slowly walk towards the bench and grab my book. Then I calmly head back to earth, soaking wet, with a juvenile grin on my face.

Before I even take 5 steps, a dark figure on the horizon crosses my path. Closer, I squint and spot –well what do you know- the infamous Gale Hawthorne. He doesn't seem to care that I noticed him, because his stride does not weaken. He reaches to the where I am, and examines me.

"I don't think the sprinklers were bought for student amusement," he states bluntly.

"Have you ever experienced the joy of them?" I inquire, raising my right eyebrow.

"No."

"Well then, you're clearly missing out," I inform him.

Gale's lips press together, as if he's forming a thought.

"What's you name?" he questions. Out of all my encounters with him, I realize that I've never told him my name.

"Olivia Collinswood," I announce. He nods.

The wind swirls around the trees, creating a whistling sound. I shiver slightly, but Gale takes notice anyways. Before he says anything, I interrupt the quietness, "Since I'm about to catch hypothermia, I think I'll see you later." I briskly stride my way towards my dorm, slowly warming up.

The dorm smells of stale smoke, from Laurdin's cigarettes. I march to the sealed window, and open it for a clean, cool breeze. "Hey! You're back. Oh god, what happened to you?" Lauren pipes from the bathroom.

"I played with the sprinklers. I'm going to get ready for bed," I declare.

"Oh wow – okay then, goodnight Liv," she says, flopping herself onto her bed.

"Goodnight, Laurdin," I tell her before I fall into slumber.

Chapter huit

Saturday morning, one of the only times that I can stay in bed for as long as I want. I take into thought that yes, I am here at Stenton, and I love it here. Learning about things I did not ever acknowledged, actually communicating to another human like me, and just the fact that I am not at District 7. What about my parents, you may ask? Surely I do miss them, but right now I feel as if I am finally free from their overprotective behaviour. They have never really let me done anything by myself, and now I can be in charge of my own actions.

"OLIVIA, WAKE UP. WE'RE GOING TO MAKE SOME BREAKFAST, YO."

Oh, god. I just want to keep reminiscing in my extremely cozy comforter.

I make a groaning, throaty sound.

"COME ON, ALREADY!" Laurdin shouts on my right. Good thing she didn't yell in my ear.

"Ugh… Okay, fine…" I mumble as I lift myself up from my bed.

Soon, I changed into my regular clothes, brushed my teeth, and was ready to cook. I am assuming that Laurdin does know how to cook, considering she was from District 8 and wasn't like people from the Capitol, where they can get meals from just a press of a button.

"Hello, there, sleepyhead!" Laurdin chirps in a sing-song voice.

"Good morning and I wasn't even sleeping when you called me up," I inform.

"Whatever. Anyways, I bought the supplies yesterday after school," she whips open the pantry and mini-refrigerator, which is stuffed with groceries, "so we're ready to start cooking. I decided on waffles with chocolate syrup, hash browns, sunny-side up eggs and bacon. Is that okay with you?"

she asks.

My mouth salivates at the menu she suggested. "Of course! Who wouldn't? We're eating like Capitolists, aren't we?" I smirk.

Laurdin grins, slightly uneasy, "Yeah, we are." _Time to shut up and start cooking, _I think.

I start cracking the eggs in a bowl when she interrupts out of the blue, "Oh! I forgot to mention; my mom said you can come to the dinner with me, so tomorrow at 6, we'll be going to my mom's house."

YES, YES, YES, YES! my brain exclaims with glee. In reality, I thank her in a somewhat hushed tone, with anticipation bubbling behind it. We begin cooking again, frying eggs and bacon, popping waffles and hash browns in the toaster.

The breakfast turns out excellent; I wolf down my food in 10 minutes flat, leaving Laurdin believing that I will never become anorexic. She and I clean up the utterly disorganised kitchen in a surprisingly rapid pace, which means I have more time to complete some of my incomplete assignments for the week, and to prepare for the most important dinner of my life so far.

"You ready?" Laurdin calls out. I stumble to her, almost tripping, while trying to cuff my too-long dark flared jeans. I'm so graceful. We grab our jackets, and walk out of our room, to the corridors of the dorm building. Entering the chilly, autumn evening, I spot the black stretched limousine parked in front of us.

"Snazzy," I whistle. She smirks. We swiftly got in, and let the chauffer drive us to President Paylor's resident.

If I have to describe her mansion in one phrase, it would be old-fashioned and classic. See, Paylor came from District 8, so you wouldn't expect her to go all ostentatious about her furniture. Although, she does have the luxurious gold chandeliers, and giant fancy glass windows, you do not see any flashy décor. I do not see orange couches, puke green tabletops, or vibrant purple walls. I do see shades of brown, beige, gold and mahogany, (a great colour scheme, by the way) carefully mixed together to look sophisticated and majestic.

"Hello, you must be Laurdin's friend," President Paylor greets welcomely.

"Yes, I am. My name's Olivia Collinswood, ma'am." I tell courteously.

"It's nice to meet you," she says, although I think she is always inclined to say things like that. I follow Laurdin and Paylor to the dining room, where there is a lovely cherry oak dining table and matching chaises, with 4 middle aged adults, which are probably the scientists. Three out of four are men, with a woman who looks like a natural born leader. Her aqua blue eyes, solid as stone, stand out the most, causing her to have a tough persona. The one to my left is the youngest, a fairly fit man with brown hair and grey roots showing. _Probably a father, with those warm, hazel eyes_, I think. The man next to him seems less kind; a full head of grey hair, a creased forehead, dark brown ominous eyes, and a tiny smile. Maybe he was just born with that look, but I bet he's one of those people who hate teenagers and scold them for stomping over his precious lawn. The final man is tall, skinny, and most likely what everyone thinks of when they hear the title _scientist. _He has black, short hair, frameless glasses, and mellow green eyes, softer than Laurdin's. President Paylor introduces Laurdin and me, then we take our seat.

Dinner is served by two waitresses, careful and emotionless. Everybody digs in, although they do it politely, while Paylor begins discussing about the hi-jacking case. She suggests various locations to hold the juncture at, and then the scientists consider about it skeptically. They leave the subject and continue with the next. The woman brings up the topic on needing a couple of volunteers to assist in the project. My eyes widen with great anxiety, my left hand simultaneously shooting up. "Sorry to interrupt, but I would love to be one of them. Is there a preliminary test to get in?" I blurt out without thought. She chuckles a little, "How eager! We are still thinking about how this is going to work, but when we get things sorted out, there will be an announcement to inform all students." I control myself to not sound disappointed, "Oh. Okay then." I smile fakely. People start chatting again, and though I am still slightly embarrassed, I listen in on their plans, since there is still a chance I may be one of the volunteers. I silently eat the rest of my beef ravioli on my plate, while they talk.

Dinner ends, with me feeling a little down, as Laurdin and I bid goodbye to everybody. The limousine awaits; I hop in, leaving the cold air of the night.

"Well, that was fun, even if I was technically rejected to be a volunteer."

Laurdin sympathetically smiles, "She wasn't sure, that's why. She didn't want any empty promises."

I scoff, "Duh. But it doesn't lessen the feeling. Oh well, I was being a bit mindless, anyways."

"I have to agree on that," she admits.

"Oh my god! I am like, so offended! Like, I thought you were my friend!" I shriek in a snobby voice.

"Like, it's not my fault you're so dumber." she plays along.

Laurdin and I giggle, because of the ridiculousness of this conversation. We eventually calm down.

"Thanks for the opportunity, anyways."

"No problem. That's what friends are for. I think."

When we reach campus, I rush out of the limo. I want to rest, just because I feel tired from the dinner, so I run to our dorm and unlock the door, get ready for bed, and dive into my bed.

I am back in District 7, with the familiar and somewhat reassuring scenery; large meadows, ginormous pine trees, my willow tree, and of course, my house. Birds are singing, and insects are buzzing, but all of a sudden, they stop. I hear nothing. All of a sudden, a high pitched bloody scream comes from the direction of the green forest, the now ablazed, and burning forest. Large clouds of smoke billow from the top, as I sprint as fast as I can, into the hell.

I jump from my bed, like my heart did from my chest, panting hard yet not audible enough to wake up Laurdin. Tears escape my eyes, and slide down my hot cheeks.

_It was just a nightmare,_ I tell myself, trembling.

But nonetheless, the truth seeps in. I was scared, and I still am.


End file.
